Love's Strategy

by Samantha Kane

  Suddenly Leah hunched her back and threw back her head, her keening cry filling the air. Valentine hungrily watched her come, her satisfaction his own. “Yes,” he whispered. He glanced down and shared a look with Kurt, and he knew his lover was imagining the same thing, Leah coming with them inside her. “Soon, Kurt darling, soon,” he whispered and Kurt closed his eyes and sucked hard on Valentine’s cock.

  Valentine moaned and let himself go. He pumped in and out of Kurt’s mouth, unable to contain the sounds of his own arousal. His balls were tingling, burning with the need to come. He felt the heat travel up his cock until it seemed as if pleasure exploded from the end deep in Kurt’s throat. Valentine arched his back as the climax gripped him, crying out at the feel of Kurt swallowing around the end of his cock.

  Kurt fell back, catching himself on his hands, breathless after Valentine’s climax. God, he loved sucking Valentine, loved the taste and feel of him, his wild abandon when he came in Kurt’s mouth. Watching and hearing first Leah and then Valentine come pushed Kurt to the edge. His cock was so hard it hurt. It felt as if he had never been this excited before, this desperate to fuck. He took a deep breath and rolled to his feet.

  “My turn,” he said, quickly crossing to the settee. He grabbed Leah’s feet and raised them to the settee, turning her whole body in the process until she was lying down. He climbed on top of her and roughly spread her thighs wide with his knees. Only then did he look at her face. She was dazed, flushed prettily from her climax, her hair lying in wild disarray around her. She was so beautiful and desirable that Kurt’s cock throbbed with the need to thrust deep within her. He met her eyes and froze.

  “Leah?” he asked, hesitant. She was crying, silent tears slipping from her eyes to roll down her temples into her hair.

  “What is it?” Valentine asked from where he was sitting down on the floor, still trying to catch his breath. He crawled over next to them and leaned over Leah. “My God, Leah, are you all right?”

  Leah began to laugh through her tears. “Two children, and I never knew I could do that. That bastard.”

  “What?” Kurt asked, confused.

  Leah looked at him, and wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands, like a child. “Thomas. He never told me, never took the time to let me. Come? Is that what that’s called?”

  Valentine grinned wolfishly from the floor. “It’s called a climax, or orgasm. Or le petite mort, as the French say, the little death.”

  “How often can I do that?”

  Kurt laughed out loud. “As often as you want. We can do that for you too. When we fuck, or when we kiss your pussy.”

  “Kiss my…” Leah’s eyes got very wide. “You mean like you did to Valentine?”

  Kurt nodded. “Yes, similar. I like to do that to women too. You smell delicious, and someday soon, I’ll do that. But right now I want desperately to fuck. May I fuck you, Leah?”

  Valentine laid his arms along the cushion next to Leah’s head and rested his chin on his crossed hands. “May I watch?”

  Leah closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them, Kurt saw desire and something else, something that made his heart quicken and his soul sing.

  “Yes, darling Kurt. Please fuck me.”

  He needed no further encouragement. Without another word he found her entrance with his cock. She was so hot and wet Kurt shivered with anticipation. He slid inside her slowly, but with one smooth thrust to the hilt, and Leah moaned deeply in delight. Kurt had to take several deep breaths to gain control of himself.

  “Tell me,” Valentine whispered, staring at Kurt.

  “She’s so wet and hot, my love, so tight. I cannot last long, I think. She feels so wonderful.” His accent grew thicker with his passion.

  “Yes, I do,” Leah whispered back, a trill of laughter in her voice. “I want to feel even better. Le petite mort, please.”

  Kurt couldn’t stop his snort of laughter, and he saw Valentine grinning like a fool beside them. “We have created a monster, I think,” Kurt told him. Leah laughed again.

  Her laughter had a strange effect on Kurt. He felt his eyes fill with tears. This laughter, this wonderful closeness, would this be their future? Suddenly that future was bright and filled with promise, and Kurt felt lighter than he had since the war. Was this what Leah would bring them? God, he hoped so. He leaned down and buried his face in her neck, clutching her to him and thrusting deeper into her.

  Leah gasped. “Kurt?” she asked breathlessly, concern in her voice.

  He couldn’t look at her. “Love me, Leah,” he whispered. He felt Valentine’s hand on his back, Valentine’s lips on his shoulder as Leah ran a gentle hand through his hair.

  “Yes,” she whispered, “I think I shall.”

  She began to move beneath him, her movements untutored, and Kurt moved with her. He reached one hand down and firmly moved her hips in a smoother motion, showing her how to match him. When she caught the rhythm he pulled his head back from her neck with a gasp. Leah moaned at the exquisite feeling.

  “There, yes,” Kurt panted, his thrusts gaining in intensity and speed.

  “Kurt,” she said, over and over, like a prayer. He felt the same. It was perfect, everything about it. He’d never felt a fuck so right except for Valentine. Being in Leah was as good as being in Valentine—tight, hot, intense. Suddenly Leah’s movements became more frantic, and Kurt knew she was close.

  “Oh God,” she cried, “it’s going to happen again! Fuck me, Kurt, harder,” she demanded, and he complied. He felt her muscles clamp down on him and begin to pulse almost before she began crying out as she climaxed. He held himself deeply inside her, pressing hard against her, trying to make her pleasure last, and then to his surprise without any further thrusts his climax came. His back arched with the force of it and he felt his seed shooting out endlessly, his body racked by shudders of ecstasy. Leah clutched him to her with arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, and then he felt her come again, not as hard but deeper, and she moaned.

  “My God,” he heard Valentine whisper. “That was beautiful.”

  Chapter Nine

  Kurt collapsed atop Leah after his climax. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, his arms still wrapped possessively around her. Valentine felt tears on his cheeks and quickly wiped them away. He’d seen Kurt come many times before in many ways, most often with or inside Valentine himself, but this time was different. Before Kurt had always seemed almost melancholy afterward, his mood slightly dark. Valentine didn’t doubt Kurt’s love for him, but he’d known something was missing. This time Kurt had looked euphoric, sated, happy.

  Thank God his plan had worked. When Kurt first mentioned the notion of taking a wife, Valentine had been surprised to say the least. But the idea had taken root in his mind and his heart. A wife who would bring children and softness and the kind of nurturing only a woman possessed. He needed that. He didn’t have nightmares from the war, having Kurt had saved him from the war grief and madness that afflicted so many of his brothers in arms. But he lived with the memories every day and so did Kurt. They needed someone to help them start anew, a beginning that didn’t come with death and violence.

  Valentine knew from the start that Kurt believed he was doing it for Valentine, that he, Kurt, didn’t need or want a wife. But Valentine knew Kurt better than he knew himself, and Kurt did need the laughter and light of a wife and children. Just a few hours with Leah, and Valentine could see the difference in him. Valentine had pretended to reluctantly go along with Kurt’s plan, all the while hoping they could find a woman Kurt could love.

  Then, in London, Valentine had confided in Stephen Matthews. Stephen had agreed with Valentine that Kurt’s dark moods were getting worse. He also agreed a wife was a wonderful idea. And it just so happened, Stephen had offered with a wink, that he knew the perfect woman. Valentine thought Stephen had been joking or at least exaggerating, but after meeting Leah he realized Stephen had been completely serious. She was the perfect woman for the
m.

  He owed Stephen a great deal, he thought with a smile, as he gazed with wonder at Leah’s perfect profile, her strong chin and aristocratic nose. Her sensual mouth and those eyes, those pale blue eyes, bright with wonder and self-knowledge; she turned her head and those eyes were looking at him.

  “Kiss me, Leah,” he whispered. She leaned toward him and he raised himself on his knees to better reach her mouth. She was all willing submission and softness beneath his lips. He realized this was their first kiss. She opened for him at a slow swipe of his tongue on the plump curve of her lower lip, and he delved inside her mouth. He felt rather than heard her sharp intake of breath as his tongue met hers. Her hesitation and innocent response revealed her inexperience with this kind of soul kiss, a kiss Kurt had taught him.

  Valentine went deeper into the kiss, applying more pressure with his lips, moving his tongue farther into her mouth, sucking as he played with her tongue. Leah moaned and moved one arm from Kurt to wrap it around Valentine’s neck, hugging him close. Her hand dove into his hair and fisted it tightly, and Valentine felt his cock twitch in arousal again. Just as he began to entertain thoughts of another bout of lovemaking, perhaps fucking Leah himself, Kurt let out a gentle snore. Leah snorted into the kiss and pulled back with a quiet laugh, and Valentine let her, smiling.

  “Our first kiss,” Leah whispered, reading his mind.

  “The first of many,” Valentine assured her, leaning forward to kiss her forehead softly. “Rest for a bit, then we will see you home, my love.”

  * * * * *

  Valentine roused Leah and Kurt after a short rest, as the hour was getting late and he wanted to take her home before her mother started to worry. Kurt was endearingly embarrassed that he had fallen asleep while still atop Leah, and inside her. Leah hadn’t cared at all. It was wonderful—the weight of a hot, sated, naked man covering her, his cock still warm in her.

  She felt like a different woman. She was a different woman thanks to these two men. She would never again settle for the kind of half-life she’d been living, now that she knew what she’d been missing. The smile was permanently attached to her face as she thought of all the wonderful years of fucking and coming ahead of her with Valentine and Kurt.

  They were in the carriage with the lamps lit, and all three were squeezed onto one side, Leah in the middle. She was half draped over both of them, and Kurt was rubbing her feet while Valentine placed little kisses on her neck and nibbled on her ear.

  “What are you grinning about, little cat?” Kurt asked quietly, and she opened her eyes to see him regarding her with a lazy smile, his own head resting on the back of the seat cushion.

  “I’ve got the canary rubbing my feet,” she answered just as lazily, and Valentine chuckled in her ear, sending sweet chills down her back.

  “Mrs. Westridge,” Valentine murmured, “you have a quick wit.”

  “The better to eat you with,” she growled teasingly, and then laughed with the other two. She couldn’t remember a time she had ever engaged in such silly banter with a man. Thomas had had no sense of humor at all.

  She settled more deeply into the seat, snuggling back against Valentine and rubbing one foot on Kurt’s thigh. “When will we marry, Valentine?”

  “As soon as possible,” he sighed, licking her neck right below her ear. She giggled. “I’ve got a special license already. I obtained it in London, hoping you would say yes.”

  “Sight unseen?” she asked lightly.

  Valentine winced. “That seems so cold now that we know you,” he admitted, “but Stephen said you would make a good wife to us, and marriages have been based on less.”

  “Oh I’m not upset,” Leah hastened to assure them. “I’m planning on thanking Stephen profusely when he gets back.” Both men smiled.

  “Stephen returns from London on the fifth,” Kurt said. “We can be married soon after.” He grinned mischievously before adding, “Or we could have a longer engagement and get married on your birthday, Valentine. Very romantic.”

  Leah felt Valentine tense behind her, and she turned slightly to regard him with incredulous eyes. “Don’t tell me?” she asked, laughter in her voice.

  “Where on earth did you think I got the name?” he asked roughly. “Yes, February fourteenth, Valentine’s Day.” He jostled her so she was facing front again. “And I’ve bloody well had to endure enough teasing about it to last me a lifetime. And no, I’m not waiting months to marry Leah.”

  “Well, at least you wouldn’t forget our wedding date,” Leah teased, and Kurt laughed aloud as Valentine teasingly bit her earlobe.

  “Where will we live?” Leah changed the subject.

  “Well, we thought here, at Cantley.” Valentine got a horrified look on his face. “Surely you don’t want to live in London, do you?”

  Leah had to laugh at his expression. “No, not really, although I’ve never been and would like to visit one day. What’s so horrible about London?”

  Kurt had a very serious look on his face when he answered. “We’re afraid London would be very bad for your health, my love.”

  “Is it so very dirty then?” Leah asked curiously.

  “Yes, the refuse and air are bad particularly when combined with madmen running around assaulting our friends’ wives.”

  “What?!” Leah was aghast at Kurt’s comment. “What do you mean?”

  “We have several friends in London who have married as we will, a marriage of three. One group made a very unfortunate enemy several years ago, and despite his rather outlaw status after attempting to kill one of them he managed to get back into the country. He has since attacked the wife of two other mutual friends.”

  “Oh my God!” Leah exclaimed. “Is she all right?”

  “Now, yes, but she was rather badly beaten and frightened. I won’t have you put at risk that way.” Valentine’s arms snaked around her more snugly, and his voice was hard.

  Leah felt a frisson of fear. “Should I be worried?”

  Kurt reached over and took her hand. “No, at least we don’t think so. We believe we’ll be well out of his sights here in the country, and would like to keep it that way.”

  Leah relaxed at Kurt’s assurance. Then she focused on the most interesting part of his story. “There are others like us?”

  “Yes, indeed there are, my dear,” Kurt told her with a smile. “When we go to London you shall meet them, but not for a while.”

  Leah silently agreed. She had no desire to travel into danger if she could help it. The conversation made her think of their other friends. “What is the duke like?”

  “Freddy?” Valentine sounded a little startled at the change of topic. “He’s, well…he’s Freddy.”

  Kurt laughed. “That says it all, and says nothing.” He shrugged in his usual manner, the movement speaking volumes. “He is young and inexperienced, but a good man I think. He likes to laugh and that is always good in a peer.”

  “He must be very aware of his position if he is at all like his mother.” Leah couldn’t stop her moue of distaste.

  Both Kurt and Valentine burst out laughing. “Freddy?” Valentine said with good humor. “No, he is nothing like that. Brett spends half his time reminding Freddy who and what he is.”

  “Brett?” Leah inquired.

  “Brett Haversham. He’s Freddy’s constant companion. He was good friends with Freddy’s older brother Bertram during the war, was injured in the same incident where Bertie died. Since he came back Freddy’s hardly left his side.”

  Kurt’s tone was neutral, so Leah had to ask. “Are they lovers, like you two?”

  Kurt looked thoughtful for a moment. “No, I am sure they are not, although Freddy I think would like to be. But Brett, he puts Freddy off.” Kurt shrugged again in bewilderment.

  “Will he like me?” Leah didn’t want Kurt and Valentine’s friends to look down on them for their marriage to a simple country widow with children. Their friends sounded so sophisticated. No matter what they said, a du
ke was a lofty friend indeed.

  “They will love you,” Valentine assured her, kissing her neck, “if only because we do.”

  * * * * *

  “What the hell?” Valentine muttered behind her, and Leah opened her eyes. She’d dozed off to the rhythm of the carriage, in the security of both men’s arms.

  “What is it?” she asked groggily, sitting up and stretching. She followed his gaze out the window and saw the cottage ablaze with lights.

  “Oh my God!” Leah was frantic. Something must be wrong. The cottage should be dark this time of night, the children in bed.

  The carriage came to a halt, and Valentine threw open the door, jumping down and turning to lift Leah out. She ran for the door, Valentine and Kurt close behind her. Before she could reach it, the door flew open and Sir Horatio stepped out in her path. She barely had time to stop before his arm drew back and delivered a ringing blow to her cheek, knocking her down. She saw stars and lay there dazed for a moment.

  “You filthy slut, I had to lie to the Duchess to cover up your whoring,” he hissed. “I’m taking these children tonight. I will be back in the morning to discuss your punishment.”

  “You pathetic bastard,” Valentine ground out, and Leah’s vision cleared in time to see him haul Sir Horatio off his feet by his cravat. “Do you gain your pleasure by abusing those weaker than you? Do you dare take on a man instead of women and children?” Valentine held him suspended on his toes with one hand and backhanded him across the face with the other.

  “You foul whoreson,” Sir Horatio gasped. “You’ll pay for that, and for what you and your foreign lover took from me tonight.” Valentine threw him on the ground as if he were trash. The older man’s face was livid with fury. “Leah was mine, mine. I was willing to marry her, but now I won’t. She’s not good enough now. I’ll get everything I want without having to wed the whore. And you will be driven from the neighborhood, from England if I have my way.”